I'm Your Man
by Jillian K
Summary: Who is to say that love should be soft and gentle? After the war Draco is lost. Harry finds him. Light BDSM and everything that entails.
1. Chapter 1

Title: I'm Your Man  
Author: Jillian K  
Length: 5 chapters  
Rating: R  
Characters/pairings: H/D  
Author's Notes: Slash. BDSM and everything that entails. This is short and sweet and completely based on my favorite non-Harry Potter film. First person narrator.  
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.  
Warnings: Explicit bondage and sex. Adult situations.

Summary: Who is to say that love should be soft and gentle? After the war Draco is lost. Harry finds him.

Part 1

It was my mother that had insisted on having albino peacocks adorn the grounds of Malfoy manor. She had harbored a love for the pale birds which bordered on the absurd especially when she took to naming them. There was Adonia the largest breeding female and her mate Palladio. They had produced Zephis, Zeus and Isidor who mated with Astraea and Fauna. By the time my mother was finished we could have filled Valhalla twice over.

It was fitting that I scattered her ashes on the grounds her birds had once wandered.

My father, or rather the shell that was left, would probably breathe his last in one of the darkest cells in Azkaban. I was told that I could claim his body once he was gone which would likely be some weeks from now. I did not want to know. I warded my house against owls and went to sleep.

Sometimes I awoke when it was dark. Sometimes I could see the light filter through the moth holes in the old brocade drapes. I swallowed another dose and returned to my tangled bed-coverings to find peace and oblivion.

The world has a way of mucking up all my plans though no matter how humble they may be. I awoke one day to find myself in the closed ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. Apparently my resolution to simply sleep my life away was classified as a suicide attempt.

"What are you looking for Draco?" she asked me for the second time. I looked at her quick quotes quill paused mid-air. It seemed that the quivering feather was holding its breath.

I stuck out my tongue at the psychiatric healer and her quill.

She must have been used to it for there was no reaction. Her quill moved furiously. More likely it was writing something like:

_Patient unresponsive except for gross and childish behavior. Highly indicative of Death Eater tendencies. Maybe we should have let him sleep tendencies off._

If she had asked again I would have crossed my eyes.

I was sent back to my lovely room with the sticking charm on the furniture. I climbed back to bed and waited for the mediwitch to bring my prescribed potions. I hoped that they would not serve pumpkin juice with lunch again.

Life became very simple then.

There was order.

Porridge and tea at 8:00. Fruit and sandwiches at 12:00

Therapy at 3:00. Dinner at five and back to my room by 9:00.

The mediwitches and wizards were clinical but polite. They must have bitten back their disgust at the name 'Malfoy'.

And then goodbye.

"Remember that we are here if you need to talk some more."

I nodded but did not really want to leave. It had been two years.

I found myself walking out of St. Mungo's into the foggy London morning. My long unused wand felt heavy in my back pocket. I had a shrunk suitcase which contained three robes, six books, a quill, underwear, a jumper and a certificate declaring that I was mentally competent. I still wanted to sleep.

There was nothing else to do but go to the Leaky Cauldron and floo home.

Instead of sleeping I walked. I explored every last centimeter of the manor's grounds. I saw that ponds had dried out and that pests had eaten away much of the foliage. A white stone nymph had lost an arm. Without mother to supervise the elves had not taken such good care of the grounds.

The peacocks were missing. I went to bed.

A few hours or a few days later a brown barn owl landed on my pillow. Ministry owl.

_Mr. Draco Malfoy.__It has been brought to our attention your recent release from St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies. We congratulate you on your progress. We understand that the recent war has affected many amongst us and thus we have created a program to support emotionally traumatized wizards rebuild their lives. With this goal in mind we ask you to report a week from today to our office located in the 5th Level of the Ministry of Magic so that we can best assist you with your reintegration to wizarding society.__Regards.__Clementine Bode__  
__  
__Committee for the Assistance of Traumatized War Participants. _

Damn.

I had to use the visitor's entrance and waited for an hour to see anybody. Apparently the disturbed benefit by learning patience. The fact that the office was located in the same floor as the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was significant. Or maybe not.

I was just about to go home when an assistant witch guided me to an office in the back. There was a tall brunette sitting behind a desk. She got up, shook my hand and looked at me appraisingly. I bet she had read the magical maladies manual.

_When dealing with mental patients make sure to always keep eye contact. _I sat down on one of the hard ministry-issued chairs. Ms. Bode waved a cushioning charm over it.

"Well Mr. Malfoy let me reiterate my pleasure at your progress. We understand that it has been very difficult for you."

"I was just tired."

"I am sure you were. But now that you are better it is our intention to assist you further. May I ask what are your future plans?"

I blinked at her. I had ordered thicker bedroom curtains and three extra sets of pajamas.

"I don't know."

"We are very concerned. We feel that it is best for you to adopt a routine that will keep you busy and involved. Since your finances have been mostly depleted it would be ideal for you to seek some gainful employment. We have already made inquiries and have found a good position for you."

"What? I don't want to work."

"It is best. It will distract you and allow you to anchor yourself in society once more. Your supervisor is familiar with your case and he is willing to do everything he can to help you. You are to report to his office tomorrow at eight in the morning. His particulars will be sent later today by owl. We wish you all the best."

"How is this supposed to help me?"

"It will all work out in the end Mr. Malfoy. You'll see."

I left the ministry in a haze. I have never worked a day in my life. After receiving the promised owl I found that I could not sleep.

_As per our agreement here is the information you require. You are to report tomorrow at eight in the morning at the office of Mr. Harry Potter which can be accessed through the storm grate nearest the Royal Artillery Memorial in Hyde Park. Please be prompt._Oh Merlin.I dressed with care in a form fitting grey robe and a deep aubergine cloak with a hood. It was raining but I did not want to bother with water repelling charms. At ten minutes before eight I apparated to Hyde Park. It only took me a minute to locate the storm grate and seconds later I found myself exiting Harry Potter's fireplace.

XxXxXxXxXx

I must have reached the waiting room for there were a couple of wizards drinking tea and sitting in the chairs adjacent to the wall. One of those modern, clear glass teapots floated between them.

I sat on one of the chairs and a tea cup appeared in front of me. It wriggled invitingly. I shook my head and it floated away rather gloomily.

I waited for ten minutes and then ten more. The two wizards were called in. Something twisted inside of me when I heard his voice.

It was another twenty minutes before the wizards walked out. They were smiling and patting each other on the back.

"Malfoy" came from the open door.

I stood up bonelessly and adjusted my robes.

XxXxXxXx

His office was dark. It was wood panneled with a large window that filtered in very little natural light even though the curtains were drawn. There were sconces in the walls placed a meter or so from each other. standing brass lamps adorned every corner.

But what dominated the office besides the imposing ebony wood desk that he sat behind was a very tall plant with curled vines that undulated slowly in a bathtub-sized planter.

"Is that a ...?" I ventured.

"Venomous Tentacula, A gift from Neville."

"But aren't they dangerous?"

"This one is tamed as long as I feed it on a regular basis. You still need to be careful with the secretions though."

I nodded and looked down to the carpet. Beige, plushy and expensive.

"Come closer" he ordered. I approached slowly and stood directly before his desk.

"Look at me."

I met his eyes. They were green and analytical as they swept through my body. I felt myself turn red. I was skinny and tired. I no longer resembled a Malfoy.

It seemed like decades before he asked me to sit down. I sank into a leather chair gratefully.

"I have to admit that it is strange to see you Draco after all this time."

My given name on his lips felt wrong... and right.

"I was told to come here."

"Well yes. Ms. Bode was quite challenged in finding you a placement. It seems that no one wanted to take on the son of Voldemort's right hand man."

There was nothing I could say to that so I didn't say anything.

"Whatever. I do need someone to help me and you are here. I guess I have to show you the ropes."

He stood up. Potter had grown taller than me. He now wore his hair combed back and sleek. His glasses were modern and rimless which suited him much better. The green of his eyes was offset by his reddish lips. A tailored muggle suit completed the look. In my father's old robes I was at a disavantage.

He led me out into the corridor. More of those sconces lined our way. We stopped before a door adjacent the waiting room I've been in before. He opened the door with a careless wave of his wand.

Potter motioned me to come in. I did so and found myself in a small and cramped room. There was a desk in the middle of shelves replete with books and reams of scrolls. In top of the desk there was a contraption that I had never seen before.

"What is that?"

"A computer. You will become very familiar with it soon enough."

I approached the strange machine warily. Potter raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"It has letters." I affirmed stupidly.

"That is called a keyboard. When you press it the corresponding letter or number will show up in the screen there."

I moved a tentative finger and pressed a D. A small d and a blinking line appeared in the white screen.

"Oh. I am not familiar with this spell."

"Your parents really kept you ignorant didn't they Draco?"

A look passed between us.

"Wow Draco. I am surprised. Two direct attacks from me and not a peep from you..." he walked towards me with a questing look in his eyes. I held my breath. "One would say that you had changed, matured or just given up."

"NO!" My raised voice startled us both. He caught himself and smiled strangely.

"You're....you're ...closed tight Walled in."

"I know." I answered.

"Do you ever loosen up?"

"I don't know."

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_'My flowers had just about given up in despair,_

_so with the exception of a few plotted plants from the florist,_

_we're flowerless for the first spring in years.'_

Just as I had been taught I laid my hands flat on both sides of the keyboard to indicate that I had completed the sentence. Harry Potter was looking from his typing exercise book and onto the screen in front of me. His eyes scanned my efforts for any little mistake. He frowned and I knew I was in trouble.

"What is a "plotted plant"?"

"A plant that plots" I said glibly but I still cringed when I felt the stinging hex on my arm. It had been the fifth time that day. .

If I were to roll up my robe sleeves the skin of my bare arms would be red and inflamed. His wand was merciless in its precision.

"Type it again Draco and this time without any errors." He said impatiently and deleted my screen.

Something turned in my stomach at his tone. An angry Harry Potter meant an unpredictable taskmaster.

My fingers moved through the keyboard slowly. Even thought I had been practicing for the better part of a week I had yet to be trusted with the job I was hired for.

_My flowers had just about given up in despair,_

_so with the exceoption_

A slashing hex cut the back of my hand and a trickle of red blood oozed out. Harry

roughly grabbed my hands and placed them back on the keys.

"Do it again...and get it right. You're wasting my time."

I said nothing and moved through the exercise once more. My hands were shaking a little making the small letters even more difficult to find. I wasn't supposed to look at them.

I made another mistake and this time he slammed the book on my desk. I ventured a a glance and met his cool green gaze.

"I'm sorry ... sir. I've only written in scrolls and this muggle way is very difficult for me."

He didn't say anything for awhile. I felt myself shrinking under his gaze. My father would roll in his grave if he saw me doing so. That is if his body had not been cast to the North Sea when he died in Azkaban. I'd been locked in the closed ward by then.

I was startled when he spoke calmly.

"This was Hermione's idea and she has a good basis for it. All knowledge in this society is concealed in some scroll or text that will eat your hand if you don't use the right incantation to open it. We had to decipher a bloody book of fairy tales to get to the truth about Voldemort. And now we have all this information...narratives, interviews, the strategic plans from the Death Eaters, pensieve memories. Everything we have assembled to get the record straight once and for all so that the next threat to the wizarding world can be handled differently."

"So that next time we won't have to rely on a seventeen-year-old boy to save us." I ventured.

He narrowed his eyes but nodded.

"And putting it here..." I pointed to the screen. "...is the best way?"

"This will make it accessible especially to the muggleborns who will not grow up hearing about Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort..."

"And Harry Potter" I interrupted and rubbed at the slash mark on my right hand.

"Yes."

"I see. But it is still very hard." I said quietly and waited for his answer.

In all my years watching Harry Potter I had become quite good at deciphering what he felt. Therefore the look on his face told me that he was going for my jugular. But even then I wasn't prepared for his questions.

"What do you do when you get home?" he asked coldly.

"I d..don't know...I guess---I guess I go to sleep." I stammered.

"Why do you take those potions Draco?"

My heart sank. "I don't know"

He moved towards me slowly like a predator.

"Is it that sometimes the pain inside comes to the surface...the guilt for what you did just gets too difficult for you to deal with? Are you trying to escape?"

Oh God. "I don't know."

"Maybe you want to lose yourself. Dream your identity away. Forget that you chose to follow him. Forget that you almost killed Katie Bell and that you let a werewolf disfigure Bill Weasley."

"Please stop." My breath was trapped in my lungs. He advanced even more so that he stood in front of me. I could not raise my eyes to meet his.

"You were so proud to have been chosen. You wanted to murder an old man who had shown you nothing but fairness."

"No.. don't." I wanted to fall asleep. Forever.

"And then you got away with it Draco. You didn't go to Azkaban and got to go back to your

manor."

"My parents.. they..."

"They got what they deserved but you didn't. St. Mungo's is not prison."

"I know."

He leaned down to my level. "So you see the problem. There is no escape for you.

You don't deserve it. Have I made that perfectly clear?"

"I don't deserve it."

"Never again."

"Okay." I agreed.

"Now you know what I want you to do? I want you to stay in this room the entire night. I want you to remain in that chair and stare at that keyboard until you memorize where each letter is. Incarcerous!"

Thin white ropes sprang from the chair I was sitting in. They surrounded my body until I was secured to the chair and unable to move. I wiggled a little but they would not give. I sat back against the chair and closed my eyes.

He left without sparing me another glance. Some moments later the lights were extinguished and the floo connection was turned off.

Hours later, when I could no longer feel my limbs, I wondered about the emotions coursing through my imprisoned body. I found something comforting in those ropes holding me trapped.

Something that was entirely missing when I went home.

Peace and Harry Potter.

TBC. Please R/R . This type of fic is uncharted territory for me so I could use some ideas.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Sometime during that agonizing and exquisite night I found a few slivers of peace that had eluded me even with the strongest of sleeping draughts. I pulled against the unforgiving ropes relishing the feelings that they engendered in me.

I was suffering because he wanted me to and because I deserved it. The taut bindings were cutting into my circulation so that my feet and hands were numb. My neck was sore because there was no support in the hardback chair. I was hungry, thirsty and growing uncomfortably warm. Little beads of sweat coated my hairline making me long for a cooling charm or an open window.

But as he had explained I did not merit either. I should have been locked away in Azkaban where all my sins would be expunged as I fed the Dementors my soul. Eventually all the guilt, all the memories would be gone and I would be saved. I would be empty.

I didn't have the salvation of Azkaban. I had two years in a closed ward and now this perfect misery that might redeem me if I let it.

Maybe I wouldn't hate myself anymore. I could look at myself and not see the green light of the Avada Kedabra when it hit Dumbledore's body. I would not have to live with the suffocating regrets that shrouded every little piece of me.

I made a decision that night. Harry Potter would be my savior and I surrendered to his will in body and soul.

XxXxXx

The unruly rays of the sun found me still imprisoned in my chair and desperate for a loo. I knew that he was an early riser so I tried to calm myself. He would be here soon to take care of me.

I held on to that belief long after the morning gave way to early afternoon. He had not returned and then I remembered that it was the weekend and that he was not due at the office. I panicked then and pulled at my bonds to no avail. My struggles turned to frightened sobs. I felt abandoned.

Then the door opened and he walked inside. My heart started to pound and I breathed in relief.

He did not say a word but waved his wand so that I was free. I remained in the chair waiting for permission to rise. He sighed loudly and spoke without looking at me.

"Get up Draco. Go home." He ordered and walked to his own office.

I rose with difficulty and followed him. My muscles ached from disuse but that did not keep me. He sat down behind his desk. I noticed that he had replaced his customary suit with light grey t-shirt and jeans. Behind him the Tentacula shuddered and stilled.

I did what seemed natural and knelt at his side. My hands rested on my thighs and my back curved in what I hoped was the right manner. I kept my head down and my lips closed.

He pushed his chair back and away from me. "You need to leave Draco."

"And return on Monday?" I asked tentatively.

"No not on Monday… not ever. I'll talk to Madam Bode. She can find you another position somewhere."

I felt the floor slide under my knees.

"No please don't." I whispered.

He still would not look at me. "It's for the best. Last night can never happen again. You do not deserve that kind of treatment. Nobody does."

"I do because of what I've done. You said it yourself. I deserve to be punished."

"Not by me."

"Then by who? I tried to do it myself but they put me in a mental hospital. They wouldn't let me die." My voice had a desperate tinge to it.

"Just go."

"No. You liked it too. I could feel it."

He rose from his chair and roughly pulled me up by my left arm just to throw me across this desk. I felt his body press against mine possessively. I relaxed under his weight and closed my eyes to focus on the sensation. I could feel something growing in Harry… an intimate tendril creeping from one of his darker areas.

He pushed me away and I slid to the floor. I could see the conflicting emotions rise of him like vapor. Anger, self-recrimination and a need that mirrored my own but I dared not go to him.

"Go…but come back on Monday."

Knowing that it was the best I could hope for I left his office.

XxXxXxXxXx

On Monday everything started anew. There were more scrolls to decipher and rewrite. He had handed me Granger's memoirs all done in her neat handwriting but with a dozen footnotes in each page. As I worked my way through them I kept coming across references the Beedle text. I tried to remember the significance of that name but my memory wasn't as good after St. Mungo's. My distraction led to some pretty spectacular mistakes that angered Potter until he burst into a mass of righteous anger and called me to his office.

I walked with shaky knees that betrayed my fear and excitement.

He was standing with his back to me to the right of his desk. One of Hermione's scrolls laid on the wooden surface and next to it was a printed version of my own efforts. I think I shivered in anticipation.

"I want you to bend over the desk so that you are looking at the document you turned in." he ordered rather nonchalantly.

I did as bid.

"Get your face very close and read it aloud. Put your elbows on the desk"

I did so and immediately noticed that I had skipped a chapter where Granger expounded on the significance of the Hallows symbol and the connection between magic and magical conduits. Her writing had gotten very cramped at that point so I must have overlooked it. Rather bad form for record keeping.

I was formulating an apology when he placed his hands on my waist and pulled my pants down. I froze as I felt him tugging at the waistband of my shorts which he pushed to my knees. My breathing stopped.

I heard the hiss of his wand being pulled back before it struck the sensitive skin of my bottom. I yelped in pain only to be felled by another blow and another and another. He worked fast and hard and I was panting midway. I broke a sweat as he crisscrossed the blows so that each one became more painful than the past. My fingers gripped at the slick surface as I tried to keep myself from sliding across the desk with the force of each strike. He hit me harder.

Oh Merlin, Oh Mother, Oh Yes. Yes.

Tears were running down my face and wetting Granger's scrolls and my printouts. I wiped my tears with my sleeves but struggled to remain silent. He stopped at twenty-five. I shuddered as my body slid to the carpet. I caught myself and crawled to his side slowly. He watched horrified as I thanked him by pressing my lips to his shoes.

"Thank you sir." I said softly. I could smell his arousal and my own.

TBC.

Author's note: Thank you for your comments.


End file.
